


Until I Wake

by Anonymous



Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Depression, Din is trying his best, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, More Hurt Than Comfort, Sleep Deprivation, poor communication, slight angst, they start to figure it out at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight, he would sleep, Din thinks. It's what he thinks every night, now.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin/Corin Valentis (LadyIrina AU)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68
Collections: Anonymous





	Until I Wake

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



_Ni varcopan r’as’gaanir ni copaan_   
_a’tuu ni hoy ni haa’tayl gar par ni._

_I had a dream I got everything I wanted_   
_And when I wake up I see you with me._

“Alright,” Paz said, rapping on Din’s pauldron, “Everything’s loaded up. Let’s go home.” He hovered over the pilot’s chair, one hand resting on the headrest as he watched Din start the the take-off cycle, “If the RustBucket is willing, that is.”

Paz was nearly sent tumbling to the floor when the pilot’s chair jerked around sharply. He managed to catch himself, straightening with one hand lifted in mock defeat, “Ay _vod_ , it was just a joke.”

“I told you to stop calling my ship that,” Din said, glaring at the taller Mandalorian as he sat in the passenger seat. He shrugged, tucking an arm behind his head.

“I recall you might have said that once or twice.”

Ignoring the shit-eating grin lacing Paz’s words, Din turned back to the controls, muttering a nasty curse under his breath. A light flashed indicating that the priming cycle was complete and he flicked the switches to kickstart the engines, the dash rattling with the force of his movement. He could feel a headache prickling at the base of his skull and desperately wished that Paz had stayed down in the hold. Instead, he would be nothing but a nuisance the whole trip back. Din wasn’t particularly in the mood for conversation.

The ship rumbled to life and soon the trees that had been their cover were shrinking below them, the blue sky blooming into the blackness of space. Din began the calculations for the hyperspace jump. Relief seeped into his shoulders as he did so, thepracticed movements reminding him that sleep in a real bed was on the horizon. Suddenly, text flashed red on the calculation screen and Din frowned. He scrolled back through, scanning for the error

“Alright there, _vod_?”

With a frustrated grunt, and unable to find anything wrong with the calculations, Din tried to submit them again. Perhaps it had merely been a computer glitch. But the error popped up once more.

“Don’t tell me your navicomputer bit the dust,” Paz had gotten up and was peering down at the screen over Din’s shoulder, “We’ve been gone long enough as it is.”

“Would you just let me concentrate?” Din snapped, “The navicomputer is fine.”

One large finger reached out from Din’s peripheral and tapped the screen, “The Covert coordinates are missing, _utreekov_.” The gesture turned into a swipe at Din’s helmet, knocking it before Paz returned to his seat.

Din blinked down at the now glaringly obvious source of the problem. The error message still glowed a smug red and with a jab, he cleared it and input the coordinates.

“ _Ke’duumir shi slanar yaim_ ,” he muttered.

It was only a few hours before they landed, back home once again. Din had barely set foot off the Crest before a tiny green cannonball was launching itself at his legs, latching onto the edges of his right shin guard with a loud squeal. Bending down, he scooped up the kid to bring him close to his chest, “Nice to see you too, _ad’ika_.”

The child chirped happily, tugging at the folds of his cowl. With a smile, Din ran a finger along one fuzzy green ear, receiving a giggle in return.

“He’s missed you.” The weight of a hand rested on Din’s shoulder, “Welcome home, _cyare_.”

Corin’s forehead touched his and he sighed, closing his eyes. It didn’t dull the ache of exhaustion throbbing at the base of his skull, but his chest felt a little bit lighter at the sight of his _cyar’ika_ and the feel of his arms around his waist as he pulled him in closer.

“Ay, save it for later _cyar’senaare_!” Paz called out from under the ship.

Chuckling, Corin let his forehead slip into the crook of Din’s neck, “Not done yet, huh?”

Din found much less amusement in Paz’s words than Corin did; his legs felt like lead and the last thing he wanted to think about was taking care of the ship. He’d been planning on returning the next morning to clean out the engine and a few other post-trip necessities, but it seemed like Paz had other ideas.

Sighing, Din handed the Child over. Or rather, tried too. With a soft coo, the Child curled his fingers into the top of Din’s chest plate and pulled, ears twitching as he looked up.

“ _Nejii_ ,” Din gently peeled back the Child’s grip, who gave a little sound of annoyance, “ _Slanar yaim ti gar buir_.” There was something in the Child’s gaze that looked more worried than Din preferred and he cupped the Child’s cheek to give him a _keldabe_ as well.

Corin was smiling when he looked up, driving home how much Din wished he was leaving with them, “I’ll see you soon.”

“ _Ret_. I won’t be long.”

He watched them leave the hangar, Corin tipping his head to say something to the Child before turning to Paz, standing with his arms crossed.

“Let’s just get this _osik_ unloaded, eh _vod_?” Din was almost glad to hear that Paz sounded about as grouchy as he felt, “And then I’ll take care of the ship.”

Din whipped his head up, “What?”

“You heard me,” Paz smacked his helmet as he walked past, “Don’t make me say it again or I’ll regret being nice to you.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Din couldn’t help thinking it would be nicer if Paz stopped smacking him all the time, but he only knew complaining would egg on the larger Mandalorian more and instead silently accepted the offer. He followed Paz up the ramp, the only thing on his mind a hot drink and a warm bed.

* * *

_Bal gar sirb “Sa munit sa ni cuy_   
_olar naasade liser aarar gar._

_And you say “As long as I’m_   
_here no one can hurt you._

The halls always felt more silent at night. Even though the Covert was never a busy place by any means, day time meant sounds of Foundlings echoing from the nursery, the clatter of armour from the training rooms, and the occasional Mandalorian to pass by and nod to. But at night there was a silence that hung along the stone walls, hovering just above the glowing plasma rods installed to light the way.

Padding towards the food stores, Din could feel the ache of exhaustion creeping up the back of his neck again. Just some water. Some water and an arm around Corin’s shoulders. And then he could sleep. A little voice in his head piped up hopefully that maybe Corin will have fallen back asleep by the time Din returned. Of course, he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

A pang of guilt tugged in his stomach. The nightmares weren’t Corin’s fault, he knew. He himself had suffered from them for many years, and he knew how pervasive they were. Somehow, though, it was always Corin’s nightmares that had both of them waking, Corin sweaty and sobbing while Din held him.

As he filled the canteen from the water container, Din supposed that at least it was better to be useful than lie awake. Despite the exhaustion that crept around his eyelids, sleep evaded him. And even when the blackness of sleep would finally overtake him, he still chased that feeling of rest in the morning as he would groggily pull himself out of bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept properly, couldn’t remember the last time morning came without a struggle. Sometimes it was easier when he didn’t sleep at all, and his second wind would kick in just as Corin woke.

_How did you sleep,_ cyare _?_

_Well._

Always the answer. It wasn’t Corin’s ‘fine’, but Din knew it was the same. Corin didn’t, though, and he wanted to keep it that way, to simply hold him and stroke his hair and tell him it would be alright.

_Hush, go back to sleep._

You can’t bring sleep with an embrace, Din thought, screwing the cap to the canteen back on, you just can’t.

When Din woke up the next morning, the world shivered. He blinked, eyelids heavy, feeling the vibration run through him down to his bones. Was that the ceiling moving or him? Din shifted, turning his head into the pillow. The inside of his helmet pressed into his cheek and he closed his eyes. Maker, when was the last time he slept without a helmet?

* * *

_Ne’narir copaanir kajur_   
_olar a’gar reta’hibirar_

_Don’t want to lie here_   
_But you can learn to_

“Din?”

Blinking away the forgotten thoughts escaping his mind, Din came back to the present. Standing over the control panel of the Crest, he held a spanner, gripping it with clear intention.

What was he doing again?

It was like moving sludge trying to put the pieces of why they were here back together. Bad control of the ship. Two hours on his back digging around in the panel. Loose steering connection.

“Din.” His name wasn’t a question this time. He looked over at Corin, standing next to him with his arms crossed. His hair is getting long, Din thinks. He’s kept the sides short but the top flopped across his forehead, brushing the top of his eyebrows. Those blue eyes were watching him; sometimes Din thought they were the bluest things he’d ever seen.

“Sorry, what?” His own voice sounded distant, like he’s listening to a recording of himself.

“The repair, how long will it take?”

Din looked back down at the control panel, “Maybe an hour? If nothing blows up.”

“So,” Corin places a hand on Dins shoulder, leaning in to touch his forehead to the side of Dins helmet, “I’ll see you for dinner, then?”

“Yeah.”

A dinner Din wouldn’t eat. Corin knew this, but they made a point of sitting down together the three of them every evening they could. It was family time that Din treasured, little moments of feeding the Child and listening to Corin talk about his day. Some of the only moments in the day where Din felt content, sometimes.

It was also some of the most exhausting moments of his day. Corin, eyes alight and gesticulating between mouthfuls, would tell Din about the new Mando’a he learned while the Child wrestled with the jerky Din had handed him. Din would nod along, half hearing was Corin was saying, already thinking about the long list of things on the docket for the next day.

Din sighed. It had been three months since Din had slept, but Corin would be smiling and the Child would be giggling and everything would be fine.

* * *

_Meh ni ret’am yust_   
_gar haa’taylir garast_

_If I could change the way that_   
_you see yourself_

The voices rose in multitudes around Din as he stared blankly at the holomap, watching the floating planets glitch in and out as the projector struggled to render them. It cast a blue glow on everyone around the table, reflecting off the curve of helmets and cuirasses.

“We can’t move everyone that far,” Raga said, “It has to be somewhere closer.”

“There is _nowhere_ closer,” Paz growled, “We looked.”

Raga’s helmet snapped to Paz and she pushed herself off the table, “Then we look harder, _di’kut_.”

“What about waiting?” Corin intervened, “Liita, didn’t you say you had a lead on another ship for us?”

The Zeltron looked up from her datapad, “Sure. It’ll be expensive though.”

Paz groaned, “Always more credits.”

“Then we go and find work, like we always do. _Tayli’bac_?”

Like someone turning a dial, the voices faded, turning into a buzz filling the background of Din’s thoughts. It was always like this. Always looking for the next place the Covert would hide, always making moving plans and scouting out new planets. Raga got on edge whenever they stayed in one place for too long; the locals would begin to recognize the few who ventured into the settlements and it would be time to get ready to leave again.

Closing his eyes, Din tried to force his shoulders to relax. Another headache was growing, its fingers prying into his right temple. He had tried taking something for it that morning but it had only staved off the inevitable.

“What about it, Din?” He opened his eyes to an encouraging smile from Corin, “Think we can wrangle a few more jobs?”

A few more jobs. As if it were that easy to find someone willing to hire a Mandalorian and pay enough for it to be worthwhile.

“Fine,” Din said, “Like we always do around here.”

Bristling, Paz began to step around the table, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Raga pushed her hand into Paz’s chest, but her glare in Din’s direction was clear, “Yes Din. We. As in everyone here.”

Without another word, Din spun on his heel, irritation flaring up sharp and hot in his stomach, and left. He didn’t even know where he was going but suddenly he couldn’t stay still, storming down the hall with his feet on autopilot.

Footsteps came up from behind and Corin fell in next to him. Din didn’t acknowledge his _cyar’ika_ ; he wanted to be alone right now.

“Din, wait.” Corin tried to touch his arm, but Din shook him off, halting. Corin left his hand where it was, hanging between the two of them, “ _Cyare_ , what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” The way the word came out short and harsh didn’t sound like nothing, even to Din, but he was already stalking off down the hall again. Corin didn’t follow this time.

* * *

_Gar ne’go’mirdir jor gar susulur_   
_val n’as’gaanir gar."_

_You wouldn’t wonder why you hear_  
_they don’t deserve you.”_

Gripping the sides of the sink, Din stared at himself in the mirror. Really stared. It wasn’t often he took time to examine his face much anymore, barely glancing at his reflection most times. But now, he locked eyes with the dark gaze watching him, searching for something familiar. Dark bags lined his eyes and his skin had taken an ashy tone. Facial hair speckled his chin, long enough that it was beginning to paint a shadow up the curve of his jaw, making everything more angular.

He was tired. He was so, so tired. Even though they had finished the job and were taking an extra night at the inn they were staying at, Din still felt like he was dragging the weight of the day behind him. Out in the room, Din could hear Corin shifting around, probably undressing. Oh Maker, Din just wanted to crawl into bed. He just hoped Corin was as tired as he was. There was a distant part of his mind that warmed at the thought of wandering hands slipping under his shirt but it was wrapped up in a shudder of exhaustion that had him clutching tighter as he swayed. He’d barely made it through the job. Just some sleep, he thought blearily as he slipped his helmet back on, maybe tonight he’d get some sleep.

He saw the handle of the door. He saw his hand turn it. He saw the foot of the bed as he entered and he saw Corin’s face look up at him. And then he blinked and saw nothing except blissful darkness for a few moments.

“-okay? Din can you hear me?”

Light swirled into focus and Din saw the wooden panelling of the ceiling. He blinked again, sucking in a breath and flexing his palms across the floor. The floor?

“What…” Din shifted, his body feeling cold.

“Hold on, hold on,” A firm hand held against Din’s shoulder, “Don’t get up, _cyare_.”

Movement flickered in his peripheral but Din did as he was told, holding still. It didn’t matter much. His body was heavy and he was perfectly fine to remain where he was.

Cautiously, a hand slipped beneath his shoulders, “Okay, let’s get you up now.” With some effort, Din was pulled into a seated position, leaning heavily on his hands. A tight knot had twisted in Din’s stomach, mixing with mild nausea that he tried to push down. Everything still spun a little and he tilted his head down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Din.”

The all-too familiar words of _it’s fine_ rose to Din’s lips, but he bit them back. No, he couldn’t spout that phrase that he hated back at the man who wasn’t fine most of the time. Both of them knew that _it’s fine_ meant something very different, code for _it’s not important, it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter_.

“I haven’t… been sleeping. For a while” Din refused to lift his gaze from the floor. He could feel Corin’s leg press into his as he angled in.

“What? How long is a while?”

There was a long pause before Din spoke, “I can’t remember the last-” he swallowed, voice catching, “-the last time I woke feeling rested.” Kriff, he just wanted to lie down, even if it would just be him alone with his thoughts all night.

Corin placed his arm around Din’s shoulders, pulling him in gently, “Oh, Din.”

Din’s throat was thick and he didn’t speak again, visor still locked on the floor. Corin was hugging him now, his face nestled in the crook of Din’s neck.

“Oh Din,” he murmured again, one hand sliding up to hold the back of his neck, “Din, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m just. I’m tired, Corin.” One of his hands lifted to tangle in Corin’s shirt, holding on as tight as if he were holding onto a lifeline, “I didn’t know how to say it.”

They held each other for a while. Din didn’t know if he had the energy to say any more.

At least for now.

~~~

_I had a dream I got everything I wanted._

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for everyone struggling with depression, major or otherwise. It can be so difficult and I know it always feels like you're alone. But you're not. Please, if you are struggling, reach out. The people in your life who care will want to know and they will want to help. Din learns the hard way so you don't have to. Sending lots of love if you need it today <3
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Ke’duumir shi slanar yaim - Let’s just go home  
> cyar’senaare - lovebirds  
> Nejii - not now  
> Slanar yaim ti gar buir - go home with your father


End file.
